


Instead Of Stressed, I Lie Here, Charmed

by revenblue



Series: [series] Halfway Right [2]
Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, Fade to Black, M/M, POV Second Person, Pining, this is not a happy fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 20:44:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17210618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revenblue/pseuds/revenblue
Summary: Raising the glass still clutched tight in your paw, you down the last of it. To bad decisions and worse friends.





	Instead Of Stressed, I Lie Here, Charmed

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted to flex my writing skills with some dabbling in dubcon, just so I could say I did. This is the result.
> 
> (Idk if this actually counts as M or if I'm being overcautious. Oh well.)

You don't know why you did it. Do you need a reason? Your head's been swimming lazily for the last hour, as you'd matched Peter (fucking _Peter_ ) drink for drink, and now you have him pressed up against the wall. In anger, a small part of your mind supplies, the only bit still working. Why else would you be shaking like this? Holding so tight to the fur on his shoulders? Close enough to-

No. You shouldn't. Heinz (wonderful Heinz, brilliant Heinz, your nemesis Heinz) would be disappointed in you. You love the man dearly, always have. You've pushed the feelings down, pretended you didn't, it was professionalism, wasn't it? What's different now? The alcohol, right. Buzz buzz buzz inside your brain, like the faint hum of an inator, one you've pressed _Heinz_ up against, pushing down the urge to finally kiss him-

What are you doing? This is _Peter_.

Back away, drop him, twist your paws together like _Heinz_ does (beautiful Heinz and his beautiful hands). Turn around. You have to leave. Before you disappoint Heinz.

His- Heinz? no, Peter's- hand rests on your shoulder. Squeezes.

You can't move, paralysed by- by- by something. If you still remember this in the morning you'll try to figure it out, but your head's still swimming, swimming, like you do when Heinz falls into the ocean into a lake into the water. He can't swim, but _you_ can. And you save him.

A paw comes up to brush along your jawline and your body shivers, head to tail, fur standing on end. It's been so long-

Have you ever-

Why has Heinz never touched you like this? You know he wants to, it's as clear as the bill on your face, twisting his hands together, but- but you said no once so he _doesn't_ , waiting for you to make the first move, waiting for you to say it's okay, and you're scared.

How long have you been this scared?

His body presses to yours and you want to pretend he's Heinz (that skinny, lanky, twig of a man you adore, Heinz). But you can't, not with his blunt claws against your bill or his breath in your ear or his silence. Endless silence. It's deafening, your heartbeat in your ear the only sound, and you swallow down a noise. You still can't move, can't pull away from him, can't-

You shouldn't let him do this. Heinz would-

Heinz, Heinz, Heinz, it's always about Heinz. Every thought, every action, and you're too fucking scared to do anything about it. Can't tell him, can't leave him, can't-

The claw runs down your throat and you shudder. Maybe this is what you want, to get your mind off him for once? The world's swaying under your feet, but you think it sounds right. Why not. Take a night off. Live a little, as Heinz always says. Drink yourself into oblivion.

Raising the glass still clutched tight in your paw, you down the last of it. To bad decisions and worse friends.

A pull on your shoulder as he turns you around and you stumble, tripping over your own tail to fall into him, swooning into his arms. That's what this is, isn't it? Swooning. His paws settle around you, holding squeezing crushing so tight, nothing like Heinz's gentle hands. One comes up to grip your neck, while the other slides down your spine, down to your tail, digging his claws in until you're clinging to him with eyes squeezed shut.

Your feet have been taken out from under you- not literally, you're too good at your job to let Heinz- except of course you're not, not when all he has to do is _smile_ -

So you cling to Peter (callous Peter, silent Peter, the _other nemesis_ Peter), the only stability you have left.

He presses his nose to your neck, where it meets your shoulder, and you can't let go of him long enough to push him away. Probably shouldn't, anyway. Make the most of the rare time off. Something about stress relief, and you've been under a _lot_ of stress recently, between the unpaid overtime and the paperwork.

Not to mention Heinz (fucking _Heinz_ ) with that pout of his. You can never say no to that pout, if only because otherwise you'd give into the temptation to kiss it off him. Why haven't you done that? You _should_ -

You tried. How did you forget that? You _tried_ and he pushed you away and that's why you're here now, in a gloomy O.W.C.A. agent lair in Seattle with _Peter_ and a few too many empty glasses and the alcohol buzzing inside your brain. Drinking the ache away.

Fumbling for the bottle, you try to pour yourself another glass, then give up and drink it straight.

Claws run down your back again, rough and catching in your fur, and you bite back a groan. Why is he trying to hurt you, it's not like he's your _nemesis_ -

Heinz wouldn't-

You bare your teeth in a snarl. Close enough. He's not Heinz but he'll do.

And if anyone's going to be off-balance here, it's going to be _him_. Not you, not this time. Bringing your paws up, you shove him back, growling snarling _furious_ -

He falls to the floor and you land on top of him, muzzle to bill, out of breath like you've been fighting him. Have you? He's staring at you, dark eyes half-lidded, paw running over your bare head through your fur into the scruff of your neck and you arch back at his tug. Is this fighting? It could be. Or-

The bottle's still clutched tight in your paw so you take another pull, the welcome burn of it sliding down your throat. You need to be drunk for this. Maybe then you can forget Heinz, forget your job, forget your own damn name.

You're sick of being Perry the Plat- Perry- Ugh. Is there anything Heinz _hasn't_ ruined?

Now, Agent P, that's a name you can be proud of. Best agent the O.W.C.A. has to offer. Feared by evil scientists everywhere.

Ha. What a joke.

Another tug and you roll slide fall off him to lie under the low ceiling, watching it spin above you. Your head's spinning too, around and around until you're dizzy. The only thing that helps is his weight when he crawls on top of you, pinning you down, so you cling to him for lack of ~~Heinz~~ anything better. At least he's steady under your paws-

Paw. Something's in the other one.

You lift it up to look, squinting at the label through the gloom while he makes himself at home between your legs. Cheap vodka. Right, you were drinking that. Holding it to your bill again, you tip it back, finding nothing but air. Empty. Useless. Like your hat, wherever that went.

Tossing the bottle aside, you let yourself slump back on the floor, arm over your eyes. Whatever he's doing, you'll let it happen. You won't look, eyes squeezed shut to block out the world spinning around you, but you don't need to look to feel his rough paws pulling at your fur. Is this sex? You'd always thought your first time would be _special_ , something intimate shared with someone you love, but why does it matter? It doesn't, that's why. Let it happen. He wants it ~~you~~ and you're too drunk to give a fuck, so just lie back, pretend he's Heinz, and let. it. happen.

**Author's Note:**

> Perry's sure gonna regret his choices in the morning.
> 
> Title comes from [Every You Every Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4YR_Mft7yIM) by Placebo. Could be considered a sequel to my (far) earlier drabble, [Like A Thief In The Night](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13031760) (edit: and is now listed as such via ao3's "series" function).
> 
> I should mention, I don't actually hate Peter as a character. His role gives him a lot of potential as a character, and especially as a foil to both Perry and Heinz.  
> This fic was me looking at an existing pre-ot3 plotbun and giving it a dubcon-y angst twist. Where I see them going from here is Perry having to acknowledge what he's done, and the three of them needing a ton of ~~therapy~~ communication before any of the relationships can have a chance to be healthy.


End file.
